


Jump

by anticyclone



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aliens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 04:52:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5992269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticyclone/pseuds/anticyclone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prickling sensation, like a branch full of thick leaves moving against her skin, ran down her arm. "Yeah, yeah," she muttered. "Let's just get it over with."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jump

**Author's Note:**

  * For [galfridian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galfridian/gifts).



> A few different pieces of your original works prompts inspired me. Happy Chocolate Box!

"This. Fucking. Planet." Each word frosted in the air, way too pretty for how Hannah was feeling at the sight of yet another crack in the ice.

Behind her, Bitra let out a slow breath. Sighed. He sighed. She would've laughed at him 'taking on a human affectation' except she was still so pissed she was trying not to even look at him. For the past half hour, she'd kept her eyes on the ground ahead of her and concentrated on taking one step after another. It had mostly worked. She had only slipped on the ice once (her elbow was still throbbing) and she hadn't turned around and strangled Bitra with his own scarf.

Ahead of them the ice had cracked. Invisible from any distance, the crack spanned four feet wide and extended farther than human or agrissan eyesight could make out in either direction.

It wasn't like Hannah couldn't jump four feet. Bitra, on his legs, could do a backflip from one edge to the other. Actually, that was the problem. Bitra, on his legs, could land solidly even in a field of ice. Hannah would slip, and hurt more than just her elbow. And when she'd tried to do it anyway, two hours ago, he'd shouted so _sharply_ it'd felt like - well, she'd checked her ears to make sure they hadn't really been cut.

A prickling sensation, like a branch full of thick leaves moving against her skin, ran down her arm. "Yeah, yeah," she muttered. "Let's just get it over with."

Bitra walked forward slowly, which gave her the time to cross her arms over her chest. Standing still even for this short a time only hammered home how cold it really was on this godforsaken rock. When he got next to her, Bitra paused, and she tucked her chin down into her scarf. She waited for him to say something, but nothing happened. All she felt was cold.

Hoth was shimmering white from horizon to horizon, freezing and so bright that his pupils were just slivers across his green eyes. She couldn't read his expression when his eyes were like that, and a scarf covered the rest of his face.

He looked away from her after a moment. Some of the cold receded from her legs, just for a second, and before she could open her mouth to say _How do you know we're almost there?_ he'd crouched, shoved off, and landed on the other side of the hole in the ice.

Then he turned around, backed up a few steps, and held his arms out.

Bitra had avoided naming Hoth on their way down. He hadn't told her until their little dayship's circuits had frozen in place and stranded them a good day's walk from the hotel. When he'd finally admitted it, it'd felt like snow in her socks and ice on her teeth. So. Hoth.

"I'm never going to let you live this down," she muttered, backing up too. She needed a little running start for this.

For a second she thought he'd miscalculated it. Her foot was definitely going to hit the ice at a bad angle. She wasn't going to be able to walk the rest of the way on a broken ankle. Bitra was strong but not strong enough to carry her that far. She was going to freeze to death.

But before she landed, Bitra's arms were around her. He didn't even stumble. And she didn't fall.

She kept her face pressed to his coat for a second. It wasn't warm or anything, but it did cut off the light, and for a wonderful moment she didn't need to squint. Part of her briefly wished that they could just stand here until someone else found them. Bitra could hold her up when she passed out from the cold. He was from the mountains, he was used to chill.

Then her shoulders started to tickle. She scowled, shoving back so her palms were flat against Bitra's chest. "Are you laughing at me?" she snapped, which just made the tickling worse, until she reached up to yank his scarf down and saw he was smirking. "You are the _worst!"_

The tickling swept over her arms, and she had to breath in quick and deep to keep herself from starting to laugh along with him. She could feel her face flushing bright red, and Bitra's smirk just widened. "I can't believe you're laughing at me. You're the one who insists on vacationing on Hoth and rents a faulty dayship and--"

He pressed a thumb to her lip and she stopped. Bitra was big on having her be quiet when he was speaking. They'd worked together for two years and he insisted she missed things if she tried to finish a sentence when he was starting one, or vice versa, even though he'd never really been able to pinpoint a mistake she'd made because of it.

The cold receded from her legs for a moment again (roughly: _we're almost done walking_ ) and her heart squeezed in her chest. If Hannah's face hadn't already been red, it would've flared then.

(Roughly: _I know you're not really that mad._ Roughly: _That's why I laughed._ Roughly: _I like it when you let me hold you._ )

She turned her head away, so his thumb wasn't resting on her mouth, and he cupped his dark hand over her jaw line. She swallowed audibly and squinted at the horizon. She didn't see anything, but that didn't mean they weren't near the hotel. There was a forest far off to the east, and they'd kept it at an even angle since they'd left the dayship. Hannah had a good sense of direction and she knew they weren't lost. Bitra had a better sense of distance and might know that they were close.

"Your hand is cold," she said, after a minute. She leaned away from his touch, and he let his hands fall to his sides. "You should put your gloves on."

The look he gave her was more than enough to say, _And you should tie your scarf up,_ without him needing to press the feeling of wool against her nose. She stuck her tongue out at him but mimicked the way he was moving his own scarf back into place. He made a big show of taking his four-fingered gloves out of his pockets.

It was almost impossible for Hannah to describe agrissan languages to a human who hadn't grown up around them. She only knew one, Bitra's Yvlean - of the Vlean mountains - plus slang from a few others. Verbal, she only knew Standard and English. But she was positive there was nothing in any verbal language that could explain _everything_ Bitra meant when he closed a thread of heat around her wrist as they resumed walking.

(Roughly: _It's not much farther._ )

(Roughly: _I'll make it up to you._ )


End file.
